


wednesday snow

by kaiaced



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Eventual Romance, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Spoilers, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, mentions of yamaguchi tadashi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiaced/pseuds/kaiaced
Summary: It's been years since they last saw each other, and none of them ever thought they would meet again at a park during the harsh winter—with Kageyama holding the love letter that Tsukishima secretly gave during high school.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 3
Kudos: 141





	wednesday snow

"What are you doing here?" Those are the first words that Kageyama heard in the long, dead of the night. He swallowed thickly, wiping the invisible tears and sweat collecting around his face before looking upward, making eye-contact with those familiar amber-brown eyes. He opened his mouth for a second, surprised to see him again.

"I-I was out for a run," he replied, blinking from the blinding lights hovering over the tall male. 

Kageyama drinks in on the sight of his former teammate, after years of being apart. Tsukishima seems to have grown a couple of inches taller from their third-year, his curly blond hair a tad bit longer, framing his forehead and temples nicely. He still wears the same deadpanned expression in his face, and yet Kageyama notices the reflection behind his glasses; he could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Kageyama decides to shrug that thought off.

Tsukishima raises a brow at him, "Surely, the king is not a masochist for running at," he pulls his hand out from his trench coat, shooting a glance at his wristwatch, "At almost 9 PM in the middle of winter wearing only _that._ " He motions to Kageyama's outfit. 

Despite wearing sufficient clothing for running, Tsukishima knows that he won't last long in the freezing night. "Mind your own business," Kageyama grumbles, averting his gaze elsewhere. He purses his chapped lips as he stares at the concrete before sputtering, "W-What about you?" 

"Huh?" 

"What are _you_ doing here?" Kageyama asks, slouching forward and bringing his fingers together for warmth. He takes a glimpse of Tsukishima from the corner of his eyes, and the blond nods to his side, "I work at the Sendai City Museum. It's just a few blocks from here."

"Oh."

Tsukishima releases a sigh, shaking his head at the thought process in his mind before succumbing to his feelings and sitting down beside Kageyama at the bench.

The latter freezes at the slight brush of their clothes and the engulfing warmth that Tsukishima radiates, but he brushes it off once more. 

The thick clouds drifting across the moon gave the two adults some company in the frosty evening. While Tsukishima's hands remained warm inside the pockets of his trench coat, Kageyama's fingers are trembling underneath his dark blue gloves. 

"Do you think it'll snow tonight?" Tsukishima asks as he tilts his head upwards to glance at the crescent moon—only to find the satellite shying behind the clouds.

"I hope not. It's cold already," Kageyama replies. He gives a brief look at the male sitting beside him, "What do you think?"

Tsukishima's lips slightly parts, and a gleam passes by his irises at the clouds dispersing, "Who knows."

It's been years since the last time the two sat together in silence. There was no usual teasing and bantering, no snide remarks and snarky smirks, and there was no romantic tension. Melting lights hang over the trees and wrap around the trunks. The drunken glow of the buildings at the metropolis beam through the distance, muting the shine from the stars. The cold coffee that Tsukishima ingested an hour ago as he filed through various contacts looking for an art restoration studio to take in a new, damaged painting, is now shooting up through his bloodstream. He could feel the caffeine traveling across his body, sending alert signals into his brain, and yet he sat there, beside Kageyama, undergoing a wave of loneliness until he was sure he could collapse from it.

"How's Yamaguchi?" Kageyama asks, breaking the silence.

"Fine, the same as always," Tsukishima uninterestingly replies. "How about shrimpy? Are you still in contact with him?"

"Yeah," he breathily says, fixating his gaze on his rubber-soled clad feet, "He's flying to Tokyo tomorrow to meet Kozume-san."

"Tokyo?" Tsukishima raises a brow at Kageyama and, the latter nods. "Huh, lucky."

Silence emerges between the two again, besides the noises of a few passersby. With their shoes scuffling and murmurs over the phone, Tsukishima finds himself focusing on those sounds rather than the faint beating of his heart.

Tsukishima's week has been uneventful as ever, and with each day that passes by, he hopes something in his routine would change. From giving out tours, checking through every painting and sculpture at the museum, and looking for an art restoration studio. His work hours have gone longer and longer, and he doesn't mind. If that means he could spend less time at the suffocating isolation of his apartment. At first, he relied on volleyball for a change of pace, but now that he's stumbled across his former teammate, he doesn't think that would be necessary.

"Since when have you returned from Italy? Didn't expect that you would come back home," Tsukishima blurts, albeit with a sharp tone before he could go through his word choice. 

"Just last week," Kageyama replied, ignoring his remark because he knows what he means. 

Tsukishima has already poured gas into the conversation, might as well light the whole thing into flames, "Do you intend to stay?" He asked.

"For a couple of weeks, yeah." 

Tsukishima scoffed bitterly, his tongue searching for the taste of bourbon and aged whiskey. He could feel the ice from the backrest of the bench seeping through his trench coat and jeans, clenching his jaw in both exasperations and from the weather. 

"I hope you enjoy your stay, then," Tsukishima replies, preventing himself from clicking his tongue. 

Kageyama only hummed, and Tsukishima knows that he could stand up and leave right this second. After experiencing a long, harsh day followed by a cold, tedious evening, it was a no-brainer for him to abandon Kageyama in the cold, all alone in his thoughts.

But Tsukishima doesn't know what keeps him from staying.

"Did you have a rough day?" Kageyama asks.

"Sure," he answers weakly, "You could say that."

Kageyama adjusts his seat, taking a look at Tsukishima with a raised brow, "What do you even do at the museum?"

The latter shrugs tiredly, "Curating artworks, hosting tour guides for visitors and kids, hiring art restoration studios. You know, the things that the king would normally get bored of," he teased, straining a lopsided grin.

Kageyama slowly nods at his words, turning to look at the trees across them with a soft exhale escaping his lips, "That sounds fun."

Tsukishima cocks an eyebrow, and his smile falters, "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You don't find anything unrelated to volleyball as amusing, stop lying."

His words elicit a hushed hearty laugh from Kageyama, the scarf wrapped around his neck is slowly falling from his actions. Tsukishima's cheeks brim a light-rose color upon hearing the sound, and he could feel his chest throb in pain the same way he felt in their last year of high school.

He licks his lips, and he could taste the faint stain from the coffee earlier, his face slowly growing into a frown to hide the lingering feelings. He hitches his eyeglasses up as he glances at the inky sky once again, hoping that the pain settling in his chest would soon subside.

Kageyama's laughter ghosts into a smile—he still sports the rugged look and tight frowns from high school, although collectively, he has gathered a few wrinkles from between his eyebrows resulting from all the scowling. His gaze seemed to be a lot softer compared to their youthful years. However, it also means a bit lost.

He isn't one to point out the emotions of others, nor even notice them in the first place, since he would always think that it's none of his business anyway. But he could not brush off Tsukishima's stiffness and anxious trembling of his lips.

The way Kageyama would also shift in his seat and shove his hands down the pocket of his thick jogging pants did not escape Tsukishima's observation. And although Kageyama wants to point out and tease Tsukishima about his posture, the latter goes first.

"You should stop lying in front of my face, king," he begins.

Kageyama frowns, "What does that mean?"

Tsukishima offers him a side-glance, "Why are you out here late at night?" He asks again, "Besides running."

Kageyama falls silent. He's unsure of what to say, so he collects all of the words in his head before he mutters, "Were you the one dropping love letters to my shoe locker when we were in high school?"

Bolts of shock travel through Tsukishima's nerves, out of all the words that he was expecting to hear that didn't fit the narrative. Instead of denying it, he chuckled.

"As expected from the king! It only took him almost six years to find that out. Impressive!" He continued laughing in the night, delighted at the profound cluelessness from Kageyama, and at the same time, he could feel his chest blossom at the idea that he _kept_ the love letters after all these years.

Kageyama waited for his laughter to die down, and soon enough, the sounds are back to the usual bustling of the city. Tsukishima still has the feign smile ingrained on his lips, hoping for the ground to swallow him up in embarrassment and frustration. 

Kageyama pulls a shaky hand from his pocket, revealing a wrinkled baby blue paper with short scribbles on the front. Tsukishima found himself gazing longingly at the letter.

"How did you found out?" He asked.

"I saw the reviewers that you would give to Hinata and me, then I noticed that the handwriting seemed oddly familiar."

Tsukishima snorted, "Took you long enough."

There was a brief pause between the two as they continued to stare at the paper in his hand. At first, Tsukishima thought about reading it again, but then Kageyama mustered up and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice almost cracked after getting piled underneath with all the regret and guilt. "You gave me so much of these letters, and I didn't even know," he continued, shakily unfolding the letter as his eyes scan the words. At this point, he already memorized the piece as if it were the holy text that he would read before he would go to bed.

Tsukishima slowly sighed, the white smoke exiting his lips, "You were going to be a player for the national team after a year that you graduate from high school, we all expected that." He scoffed, "You think I could take that away from you?"

Kageyama opened his mouth to protest, and he closed it again.

"As much as I wanted it, as much as I want to be selfish, I know that it would still end up failing. Our relationship is doomed from the start anyway," Tsukishima continued.

"Nothing that I expected has happened to me, and now I'm still holding onto that thin thread that I could relive the memories of our high school days," Tsukishima said bitterly. The taste of frustration is evident in his tone, "It's quite pathetic."

"And now you're here again, in the same city as I am. We're not talking about it, but I know that if I was selfish enough, we could have done more things in the past that don't taste of regret today."

Tsukishima shakes his head in disbelief, readying his mental strength to stand up and leave.

But just as he thinks about it, Kageyama tugs on the sleeves of his coat. Kageyama trains his gaze onto the ground with a slight frown on his eyebrow.

"I-I know where Yamaguchi is," he mumbled under his breath. Tsukishima raised a brow confusedly, is that an attempt to make him jealous or is that just plainly telling facts?

"Okay, congratulations, king...?" 

Kageyama shakes his head, "No, I mean—" he inhales a deep breath, removing his grip from his coat, and leaning back into the bench. 

"I was out to find you."

"Oh."

Tsukishima stares at the distance with an impassive look on his face, and he tries to remain his lips into a thin line, but the hot blush staining his icy cheeks says otherwise.

"Yamaguchi said that you work at the Sendai City Museum, and I could find you before the closing time, but by the time I arrived, the guards won't let me in," Kageyama mumbled, the smoke passing by his lips from the chilly air. 

"And you asked him if I was the one that gave you those letters, huh?" 

Kageyama meekly nods, fumbling on the corners of the paper with his thumb and index finger. 

Tsukishima couldn't find the words to say after all, what else is there supposed to say? 

Silence enveloped the two again, the streetlamp from above them flickers for a second before remaining into its state. 

"You have to be honest too." Kageyama declares.

Tsukishima raises a brow at him, "Was I ever a liar to you?" He retorts, only eliciting a frown from the other male. The blond clicks his tongue, waving his hand in the air, "Fine. What is it?"

Kageyama shoots his gaze towards the paper again before shoving it in his pocket and asking, "What are you doing here?"

Tsukishima furrows his brows, "I'm passing by to go home...?"

Kageyama shakes his head, "But Yamaguchi said that you take the train."

Tsukishima deadpans, pursing his lips before sighing, "Yamaguchi also told me that you would drop by."

"Oh."

"I thought I would find you here," he continued, "And I was right." Tsukishima is content with the silence spacing between them, not wanting to bring up anything further from the past or else it would bring him to another pit of despair, but suddenly, a question throws him off.

"Don't you regret the years we wasted being apart?" Kageyama asks, almost a bit firmly.

Tsukishima looks away, on the trees or passersby, anywhere but his genuine expression. "How could I when I didn't even know that you feel the same way for me?" He replied, hitching his eyeglasses up.

Kageyama's breathing gets caught in his throat, "Still—!"

"Quiet down, king. Nothing will happen if we linger in the past," he sighs, waving his hand dismissively in the air. "Besides, I've already been asking Santa to give me your answer."

Kageyama cocks a brow confusedly, "But Santa doesn't exist?"

Tsukishima glances at him through the corners of his eyes, "That's the point, genius. I can't ask help from anyone else, just so you can reciprocate my feelings."

Kageyama huffs, "Well, how should I know? You didn't tell me anything."

"I told you, I don't want you to waste your time on someone like me," Tsukishima stubbornly replies. "And didn't I tell you? We won't get anything from all of those what if's. It's all over now. Whether we could've been a power couple or a relationship that died down before it could live, it doesn't matter because it didn't happen."

The tone in his voice was sharp enough to cut through Kageyama's willful idea of what they could have been, but that wasn't enough for him to push what he wants to happen tonight.

"I guess you never know," Kageyama wistfully said.

Tsukishima could feel his heart clenching at his words as he tried to remain a stoic exterior, "Right."

Seconds ticked into minutes of silence, and Tsukishima could hear himself already regretting the way he stubbornly shuts out the attempts of Kageyama to enter his life. He's not sure if it's from the exhaustion from work or the previous heartbreaks he experienced throughout college as he tried to get rid of the king's memory. But one thing is for sure, Tsukishima's digging his own grave yet again because of his inability to comprehend that the possibility that Kageyama likes him exists.

Kageyama abruptly stands up, and Tsukishima opens his mouth in panic. He wants to take all of the words he said back, and say instead that he too wishes to be with him in high school, even until now. His mouth still hangs on the bits of frost coiling in the winter air, and he swears that the ice already wriggled its way through his throat.

Kageyama glazes through the city as if he was searching for something, and Tsukishima's fingers twitch in his lap, itching to hold his hand and tell him to stay a bit longer. But his pride tells him otherwise, and he drops his gaze to his jeans, clawing through his gloves and frowning.

Any second now, Kageyama will leave and go on with his life, traveling around the world and meeting new people while doing what he loves. Tsukishima knows he can't squeeze himself into the picture of his already bustling life. He's already expecting that Kageyama would bid him farewell before leaving him at the park bitterly.

"Do you have plans for the holidays?"

"What?" He turns his head to Kageyama in shock, his lips slightly parting. 

"Will you go somewhere for Christmas?" Kageyama asked again, looking at his forlorn expression. Tsukishima blinks confusedly, "My family is in Tokyo right now. And since the flights are booked, I don't think I can catch up to them."

Kageyama nods, taking one last glance into the city before clasping Tsukishima's gloved hand from his lap, making him stand up, albeit a bit dazed from his actions. Tsukishima feels like he could stagger and fall any moment now, his owlish eyes darting from their hands to Kageyama. Kageyama holds his hand against him like a child, tucking his face into his scarf to hide the growing blush in his cheeks.

"We should get some dinner tonight then, we can plan our holidays," Kageyama mutters under his breath, tugging Tsukishima along to the direction of the train station. 

Tsukishima didn't even have the time to think about protesting, not when they are holding each others' hands with dozens of eyes lurking on them as Kageyama drags him behind him. He doesn't even realize where they are going until Kageyama tightens his grip against his loose hand, not sparing him a single glance. His heart hammers against his ribcage while a faint smile ghost on his icy lips, a soft gleam passes by his eyes at the realization. 

From all the love letters he hesitantly gave to the disapproval of confessing towards Kageyama resulted in this very moment. While he does regret not sharing his previous years with him, he does not mind sharing a couple more to come with him by his side.

He tightens his grip against Kageyama's hand and jogs beside him, walking side by side with him as the snow slowly falls from the sky.

"So, you thought about going to my work just to see me while wearing _that?_ You sure have no shame, king. You missed me a lot, don't you, huh?"

"S-Shut up!"

**Author's Note:**

> i had this short fic idea when listening to SURL (설)—Snow 눈. i hope everyone likes this! let's talk on twitter @kaiaced.


End file.
